


The Tipping Point

by Leotto



Category: Long Gone Days (Video Game)
Genre: Coercion, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Medical Inaccuracies, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25436935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leotto/pseuds/Leotto
Summary: Nobody thought it would be easy, but everyone was here for what each of them believed in. They all thought they could get through this with the help of friends, the power of positivity and strong determination to see a better tomorrow. That was, until Rourke stumbled back to Atiye's apartment with a hole in his stomach.
Relationships: Adair & Rourke
Kudos: 21





	The Tipping Point

**Author's Note:**

> Canon-divergent. Events in this story doesn't adhere to events of the game exactly.

The Tipping Point

Nobody thought it would be easy, but everyone was here for what each of them believed in. They all thought they could get through this with the help of friends, the power of positivity and strong determination to see a better tomorrow. That was, until Rourke stumbled back to Atiye's apartment with a hole in his stomach.

Chairs tumbled and people screamed. A huge commotion of bodies were rushing towards the slumped sniper who was barely standing upright. Cygnus was holding him up by the waist and he looked like he was scared and struggling. Soon, everyone went over to lend a hand and laid Rourke down in the bed.

Adair saw and heard all of these, but nothing registered. His eyes were zeroed in on Rourke's unconscious face and the visible loss of blood by his complexion.

He needed to assess the patient's state and there were too many people buzzing around the area, worrying, crying, fidgeting and frowning-- he couldn't hear himself think--

"EVERYBODY, STOP!"

Adair's fist slammed into a nearby table. The shout from the usually soft spoken medic jolted everyone out of whatever state they were in.

"You," he pointed at the nearest person. He couldn't even tell who it was right now, "bring me some boiled water and towels. Bucket, basin I don't care, bring me lots."

Then he pointed at the next person. "You bring me anything you got that can sterilize; alcohol, distilled water, saline, anything at all." Then his eyes turned back to his patient.

"If you haven't got an order, get out of this room now." His cold and professional demeanor caused a gasp from a few people who haven’t seen it before, but they all complied.

Adair put a hand over where the wound was to stem the blood flow. It was already wetting the sheets he was lying on. He tapped Rourke's cheeks hard. He wasn't responsive. His pupils were dilated under the eyelids. At least he was breathing and he could get a pulse, albeit a very weak one. He put a hand under Rourke's waist and felt around. No exit wound. The bullet was still inside him. He swore. He sure hoped it wasn't lodged in his spine or nerve endings.

People with instructions came back and started to hand him things he needed. He fashioned a quick tourniquet with what appeared to be all the towels in the house, and washed his hands up to the elbow quickly, but thoroughly. After sanitizing his hands and tools he was going to use, he lifted the towel to look at the oozing wound.

"One person who can handle seeing an open wound stay. Everyone else, get out and stay out of my way until called." He instructed, and without waiting for an answer he dug his fingers into the gaping hole in search of the problematic fragment.

Adair focused all his concentration at the tip of his fingers, carefully pushing through the tissues and muscles. It was warm in the most unpleasant way. It was slick and sticky at the same time, hindering his movement in the worst possible way. He tried not to think about who this person is. Instead, he focused all his thoughts on saving his life. Everything else would have to come later.

"I need more light." He called, and soon there was a lamp held right over his head and he was able to see better.

It felt excruciatingly slow progress to meticulously search for the bullet while not avoiding more damage to the internal organs, while trying to do it as quickly as possible to limit the blood loss. He hoped it wasn't broken into fragments.

After what felt like an eternity, he felt something hard clinking against his nail. Careful not to push it in further, he searched around to make sure it hadn't broken any major veins, arteries, nerves... One small miracle was too much to ask for sometimes, and lives could be taken wherever and whenever.

It seemed as though today was not the day the fate wanted to be whimsical.

Adair removed the bullet with the tip of his fingers and dropped it into one of the basins. There were sweat forming on his forehead. Rourke's mouth was opening and letting out a pained breath. He realized he went in without using anesthesia but the patient was unconscious through most of the procedure, anyways. He won't remember this particular pain more than the bullet that initially ripped through his guts.

He cleaned, packed and stitched the wound, then wrapped the entire area again for good measure. He saw the light above his head move and be placed on the table nearby. Then he started washing his hands that were covered with his friend's blood up to the elbows.

His work wasn't quite done yet, though.

He searched his medical bag for a dose of antibiotic and a syringe to prevent infection from the wound, and a bag of saline to replace some of the blood he lost, in lieu of having a blood infusion. He hung the IV bag on a coat hanger and hooked it on the window frame and pushed a needle into a vein he could find.

All the immediate treatment completed, he finally took a step back and stopped seeing his patient and saw his friend Rourke lying there on the bed. His face was pale, his hair matted from sweat, and blood. His clothes were torn and covered with blood as well. There were some superficial scars on his fist and light bruising on his arms as if there were some physical altercation prior to getting shot. Adair knelt down next to the bed again, and cleaned and bandaged those wounds too. Rourke was going to need these fingers when he woke up.

When he grabbed a torn piece of towel to clean Rourke's face, Adair finally heard someone else's voice that wasn't his own for the first time this evening.

"Adair, you need rest now. We will watch over Rourke." It was Lynn, and her voice sounded so reassuring that he handed over the cloth and stood up. His legs buckled under him and she reached out to him. Thankfully he didn't fall.

Once he left the room, he could finally see the faces of those waiting for him. Atiye looked like she cried, but her sleeves were rolled up and her shirt wet. She must have been the one replacing his hot water basin during the makeshift operation. Ivan gave him a concerned smile, that conveyed both his worry for Rourke's state and how Adair was doing. He was massaging his arms. He must have been the one holding the lamp above his head all this time. They all looked like they wanted to talk to Adair to ask about Rourke, and whether he was going to be okay.

He didn't address them.

There was Cygnus at the edge of his sight.

He was looking nervous and anxious. He was sitting by himself with his back to the walls and puffing away on his cigarettes. There was an entire pack's worth of half smoked cigarettes stubbed out in front of him. He couldn't meet Adair's eyes. He walked towards the newest member of their team and stood in front of him. Contrary to the utterly destroyed condition Rourke was in, this guy didn't even have a scratch on him. Then there was a splash of Rourke's blood across his shirt.

Something inside Adair snapped.

"Let me take a look at you." His voice was low and quiet, almost inaudible.

"W- what? N- no... there's no need..." Cygnus jumped from where he sat, looking at anywhere but at their medic.

"I insist." He grabbed Cygnus by the wrist and made him stand. The man was surprisingly light that when Adair pulled, he came easily. Everyone in the room was watching, but no one stopped them.

He walked back into the room where Rourke laid. Lynn looked up at him surprised, her hand paused while trying to wipe Rourke's brow with a cool cloth.

"Lynn, give us the room." She sensed the unspoken tension and left without asking more questions.

He pushed until Cygnus was sitting in the chair where he could clearly see Rourke. There was a small yelp as the man's rear hit the wooden chair a little too hard, but he didn't resist. Adair left him there and turned to rummage through his medical bag.

"You're here because you are supposed to help us." His voice is low and hoarse from all the orders he had been barking all night.

"We trusted you to help us and you needed us to help you just as much. I thought I could trust in a mutual benefit like that." He looked at Rourke. He was stable now, but a pained groan was escaping his parched lips. He gave him a small dose of painkiller and dripped a little bit of water into his lips. In a moment, his wheeze eased a little.

"We got lucky, finding Ivan and Lynn on our first try. They are great human beings; selfless and care for others. I thought the Core was wrong about the surface." He walked back to where Cygnus sat.

"Then there was you." Adair didn't realize how he looked to the seated man right now.

His hair was disheveled. There was Rourke's blood smeared on his cheeks and neck in the shape of his hand print where he didn't wash off. His shirt was equally bloody and there was dried blood caked on his glasses. But it was his eyes behind them that really made him look like a different person. They were so cold that they almost looked blue. They were sharp, calculating and unforgiving.

Cygnus gripped the edge of the seat and hunched. "I swear I didn't know anything about this! This was supposed to be a recon and you need me to spot Beqiri's men. I- I didn't know something like this would happen, I swear--!"

Adair closed the distance with an uncanny speed and shoved his forearm against the hacker's neck, cutting his speech short. The impact thumped the chair over until it was standing only on its two hind legs and held it there.

"Why should I trust you when it's obvious that Rourke fought alone against multiple attackers, while you manage to remain unharmed?" Cygnus's eyes grew wider in acknowledgement, but he could not speak. "I'm not an idiot. The kind of injury people take paints the whole scene. So, who are you selling out next? Me?"

Cygnus's fists desperately pounded on Adair's arms that he eased up enough to let him speak. "Rourke was saving me! He- he's the one who jumped in front of the gun-"

"AND YOU LET HIM!!" His usually calm face turned ugly with a quick flash of rage. Then it was gone just as fast as it came and returned to the cool, collected, and compressed self. He put more pressure on Cygnus's trachea and pulled out a scalpel in his other hand. He brought the small but dangerous tool close to the man's tearing eye.

"We need you right now to save Zoe. For Atiye's sake. Others might even trust you." Adair's forehead crinkled in a deep frown. "But I don't."

"I'll be watching you, Cygnus. Whether I like it more not, we are in the same boat now. You better get your act together and do the right thing when the time comes." He rotated the scalpel in his hand nonchalantly, then pressed the shining tip into Cygnus' cheekbone. His pained groan didn't get out, with his vocal chord held under restriction.

"After all, we are going to walk into a dangerous situation from here on." The scalpel twisted and a drop of blood ran down Cygnus' cheek next to his tears.

"And I'm your medic. I hold your life in my hand." The blond smiled at him, and his eyes gave off an eerie shine from the sole lamp that was placed behind his back, giving him a dark halo.

"Is that understood?" He whispered almost serenely, and Cygnus desperately nodded as best as he could in the current position he was in.

Adair gazed at him with the emotionless eyes for a moment longer, then let him go. The chair thumped forward, spilling the man onto the floor at Adair's feet. He wiped his tool of trade on the back of the hacker's shirt and returned it to his satchel.

When he came back and crouched in front of Cygnus, the timid man whimpered and winced, only to have a bandage slapped on his cheek.

"I take care of my people. Remember that." The medic coolly admonished, and the frightened man nodded with his tear and blood stricken face.

As soon as he turned, Cygnus ran out of the room and Adair let him. He didn't care if the rest of the group learned of what he had done. 

No one endangers his people and gets away with it, especially when there are so few of them left.

He dragged the chair over to Rourke's bedside and slumped in it. This was going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Crow, E, Le Sof, Redrobots for joining me for sprinting for my motivation. Aquaticnaho, I delivered on my promise. Give me those bonus points.


End file.
